Pages

Are blogs still a thing?? I never know. But I guess I never really blogged in the first place because it was "a thing", but because I wanted to. Needed to. But regardless of whether blogs are in or out, it's awkward because I certainly never intended to disappear for two months, and not tell you when our baby was born. How rude! Where are my manners? But that's the thing, it wasn't planned, it just happened. The baby was born, and I lost myself in that sweet magical cocoon of newborn bliss, and I didn't ever want to come out.

In retrospect, I should've just planned a break and let you all know, but I tend to forget that this thing has any readers. And it's not until someone says, "I've been checking for any new posts!" That I realize that oh, maybe some people actually do read this thing and are wondering if we ever had our baby??! I am the worst blogger.

Anyways, the more time that stretched on and on without posting made it feel even MORE awkward, and so I just sort of ignored the whole thing. Or tried to. And while that precious little arrival definitely contributed to my disappearance around here, lack-of-time isn't even the main culprit. This time, my absence has been largely due to "pregnancy brain" (don't have a heart attack, I'm NOT pregnant again. Let me finish.) which I've discovered is basically the same thing as "postpartum brain" It's like living in a foggy marshland where words go to die. I sit down, I have some quiet in the house for once and a cup of fresh coffee in my hand and nope....no words. Gone. Nada. Brain fog.

So here we are, awkward and all! Not sure where to start, but hey, we had a baby! Two months ago! So that's a great time to announce his birth, right? Ha. None of his other announcements have gone as planned, so why should this one be on time? The one we put on Facebook got deleted somehow, and the announcement at church showed a picture of William instead of him. So...yeah. Life with four kids, people.

On September 13, our family celebrated the long-awaited arrival of another son, ARCHER FLYNN, 8 lbs. 12 oz. Archer means "bowman" and William means "resolute protector or defender" and I love the idea of teaching my boys that they are warriors on a battlefield. And our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers and rulers of darkness. Flynn means "son of the red-haired one" and incorporates Randy and I's shared middle name, Lynn (I was named after my Grandpa).

This little stinker sure took his sweet time. I was 14 days "overdue" (although I tend to think the whole due-date thing is a myth, but that is another story for another time). We didn't know what we were having, and so it was such a fun, special surprise to have another boy. I so wanted a little brother for William! He was born in the water at home, and it was my best birth experience yet. I hope to share that sweet story someday. But first! Pictures. These were taken when he was about 3 weeks old.

He looks just like his daddy. He is starting to smile and coo and respond and it is so much fun. We love him dearly and his sisters are fairly crazy about him, but perhaps no one loves him as fiercely as his older brother William. He makes a beeline for him whenever possible, jabbering deliriously and launching into a full-body-hug or face grabbing. Don't worry Archer, it's all love, Will just has a funny way of showing it.

All four of my babies have used this cradle now, that Randy made when we were pregnant with Jocelyn. Well I guess technically Archer hasn't really used it yet, since this time around I found a rock-n-play at a garage sale, and so he has been sleeping in that. Man those things are handy! I never had one with my other babies. Our babies usually sleep in our room for the first few months (sometimes longer) before moving to their own crib, and so this cradle has been perfect for that.

The girls, of course, are smitten. Jocelyn has taken, once again, to her role as secondary mama like a fish to water, and rocks and shushes and fusses and bounces him around as if she was born for such a time as this. Charlotte shares a special little bond with her brothers already, and doesn't seem to struggle with the jealousy towards them that I felt toward my own younger brother. So, she's basically an old soul and more mature than me. Our children teach us so much, don't they?

I am still a little shocked that we have four kids. If you would have told me that 3 years after having two girls 18 months apart, we would have two boys 15 months apart, I would have laughed at you. Having two that close was not easy, and I really didn't think I would ever do something like that again. But here we are, and it really doesn't seem quite so bad the second time around. Maybe because things are already crazy so it doesn't make much difference? In any case, I already love it with the girls, watching them be each other's best buddy and sharing each other's clothes. And I know in the same way, I will love it with the boys too. It makes for some crazy days right now for sure, but I know that these days won't last long.

Well that's all for now. And maybe that's all for the next two months?? Who knows! :p I think at this point in my life it's safe to say that I won't be dependable or consistent in my writing by any means for probably a very long time. So, there's that. But if you really want a window into the current happenings of our little lives, you will find that over here on Instagram. That's where I update the most these days. I hope this finds you doing well in your own little corner of the world! And have a blessed, happy Sunday.

I had an ultrasound today to see how the baby was coming along and if everything was still ok enough to keep waiting for a natural start to labor, instead of forcing him/her into this world. I'm currently 11 days "overdue" but I am a firm believer that some women (like me) just have a longer gestational time than others, and so maybe I'm not even really "due" yet at all. And so we continue to wait.

But this overdue/due date business? It's nasty stuff. It doesn't matter HOW HARD you mentally prepare to go overdue, because trust me, from the moment I saw that little plus sign on a pregnancy test, I began coaching myself to expect, prepare, and plan for going overdue again. I even told people "early September" when they asked my due date, instead of August 29. I tried as hard as I could to mentally prepare. But guess what. You can't trick your mind into un-knowing what it knows. And as soon as I heard August 29, a part of my heart accepted that as my "date of full term". And so when the days of September stretch on and on and each morning you wake up a little more stiff and uncomfortable and stretched thin than the day before? You begin to break a little.

I was determined to weather this pregnancy with gratitude and grace, because it may be my last. And in the case that it is, I wanted to cherish every single moment. Appreciate it for the gift that it is, and truly live out those 9 months in joyful anticipation. I can't say that I succeeded completely, but I tried, so hopefully that counts for something. And I'm not sure why this is, but the end of pregnancy always feels especially isolating and alone. I know that so many people care, and it's an obvious lie and trick of the devil to make me think otherwise, but it always seems to happen just the same. You feel forgotten. Drifting in this gray area of suspense and hopefulness and anxiety and weariness and ache and inner turmoil. Stumbling through your days, trying to stay positive, failing. Worrying. Abbot the safety of the baby, about crossing through that valley of Pain again, about life afterwards with 4 little ones who need you.

In so many ways, I do not feel ready for this baby. Jocelyn is 5, and doing kindergarten at home this year. Charlotte is 4 and will probably do school right alongside with her. William is 1, but not walking yet, and so he still very much needs me throughout the day and feels like my baby. He IS still my baby. And then here we are, days or hours or moments away from adding to the family again, and I am SUPREMELY grateful, and scared spitless at the same time. Will I be able to do this? What if I fail? What if I am only half (or less) of the mother I hope to be? Will everyone think "Serves her right for having babies so close together" or worse to themselves? Will I miss out on too much of these precious stages in my babies because they all came so close together? When things finally slow down and I catch my breath, will I be filled with regret?

And then there is the anxiety of labor. I assumed that by the time I was having my 4th, I would be a pro. Labor wouldn't scare me, I'd already been through it 3 times! What's the big deal? But on the contrary, I find myself feeling more anxious about it than ever before. William's birth was fast and furious, a runaway freight train I could not seem to gain control of. Wave after wave of pain and agony swept over me as the contractions slammed closer and harder and more fiercely until it quite literally knocked the breath right from me. Jocelyn and Charlotte's births were also natural, with no epidural or pain medication, and with Charlotte I was even induced with Pitocin, and I still don't remember that level of pain. With William, it was like physical pain had crested a whole new plateau in my body, and it left me shaking with terror at the thought of encountering that again.

And if you're no stranger to the modern-day birth movement, than you know all about how NON-KOSHER it is to talk about pain. We are supposed to pretend that pain doesn't exist in labor, using phrases like "birth without fear" and "trust your body" and a host of other words that specifically avoid using words like HORRIFIC, MIND-NUMBING PAIN. Yet that's what it was for me.

BUT. Even in spite of the pain, I treasure my birth experiences. I do. They were all magical and miraculous and beautiful, even though it felt like I was going to die. I just don't see any reason why we can't admit both. Birth isn't this illusive, pain-free, goddess, out-of-body experience that only some enlightened people manage to figure out, and those of us wallowing around in our mere humanity and pain are just missing it. No. We live in a fallen world, and pain is part of childbirth now. The end. Sure, you can prepare, focus, breathe, and strengthen your body and mind, and try to keep fear from being the mantra of your pregnancy, but in the end, there will be pain. That's just all there is to it.

And maybe the moment we stop trying to avoid it at all costs in both language and mentality and EMBRACE it, maybe that's the same moment it becomes bearable. Not gone, but bearable. You will get through it. You will survive. At least that is what I am telling myself, here on the precipice of plunging through those dark waters once more.

I went back and re-read my friend Esta's blog post about being 33 weeks along and facing the fear. It's so good. Just go read that right now. I loved how she said, "I think I’ve come to accept that experiencing the overwhelming power and overwhelming fragility of life all in the same moment is why most women count, in the end, birth to be a miracle, no matter what the outcome."

Isn't that a beautiful thought? And how true it is. That no matter whether your birth took place in a hospital or your living room, on a surgery table or in a pool of warm water, that power and fragility of life added together equals a miracle, straight from Heaven, every single time. I love that. It removes us from the equation a little bit. It makes it not so much all about us and our "birth plan" which, by the way, I think is a bad idea. I think every woman should write a detailed birth plan and then ceremoniously burn it.

Because while I think it is VERY important for women to be informed about what/how/where/when/why they want certain aspects of their labor to be, I think it is even more important to realize and admit and SURRENDER to the fact that ultimately, we are not in control. It is so good to be informed and educated and aware of your personal plan for your birth, but it is better to be open. Open mind, open heart, open body, to the journey of your own particular baby's birth, in whatever shape or form that may take place.

And while we're at it, we need to let others walk their own journey. I am just SO OVER the mom-shaming that we like to do so much these days. Baby-wearing, breastfeeding, vaccinations, homeschooling, natural birth....and about a million other hot-button issues that get everyone's panties in a wad and start the mud-slinging and accusations and judgement....I tell you, nothing gets me going faster than moms on soapboxes with the sole intention of dragging down everyone else around them.

You do you.

I'll do me.

And let's just admit that we all love our kids a whole HEAP and are trying our UTMOST to do right by them, and love them, and nurture them, and keep them whole, and that is going to look so different for all of us. And then let's just LET IT GO. Let it be. And the world will be better off because of it.

Well I need to wrap this up. Time for the drive home and the Birth Story podcast. Listening to other women's experiences when I am here on the verge of my own again makes me close my eyes and catch my breath sometimes. It is so near, I can feel that pain on the tip of my tongue. I can feel my body go cold at the thought of What Lies Ahead. But it also sparks a hope in me, a small, sliver of courage....they've all been through this. I can do this. I can do this again.

We've all heard pregnancy tips for combating morning sickness and fatigue in that trying 1st trimester, fashion tips for "dressing the bump" in that glorious 2nd trimester, and tips on nesting and preparing for baby in that stretching 3rd trimester, but where's all the advice for surviving the 4th trimester?! For some of us it's a very real thing.

I have now gone overdue with all of my babies, Jocelyn being "barely overdue" at 3 days over, Charlotte was induced at 7 days over, William coming on his own on the morning of the 11th day, and currently 3 days over with baby #4. So needless to say, I was fully intending to go overdue with this one as well, and I think that has helped me, overall. So far, I have definitely felt the best this time, mentally and emotionally. Not to say that it isn't still hard, but it's been better than my others.

First of all, if you haven't experienced it, you truly can't understand, so please don't try. I'm sure it kind of seems like what's the big deal? Baby is coming soon and so that should be exciting and glorious, and you're almost done, and what's the whining about. But when you begin to stretch further and further into that overdue zone, you start to worry about meconium and complications and HUGE babies, and being induced, and it feels like it starts to creep out of your control. Not to mention the fact that you feel completely alone and unseen and your body is so DONE it isn't even funny anymore. Maternity clothes are barely cutting it anymore, your weight just keeps creeping up, and let's be honest, your body was done at 35 weeks, much less 41 or 42. And so it is no walk in the park. But neither is infertility! Or miscarriage! Or preemie babies who need intensive care! So who's complaining.

Thankfully, I've been able to have all of my babies naturally and without interventions, except for being induced with Charlotte. I am so grateful for how my births have gone, and I have had very positive experiences with the two that were in a hospital. Whenever I hear extreme anti-hospital propaganda I always wonder why the person seems so angry and afraid of hospitals. In my experience, if you know what you want and you voice your decisions, they will respect that and let you have the birth experience you want. I had a water birth with a midwife in a hospital with William, and everyone was so amazing! It was literally a home birth away from home. And with room service. :)

This time around, we are planning a home birth, and I am excited, although to be honest, it doesn't really feel any different to me than preparing for my other births. For my other births, I walked/moved all over the birthing room, got into the water, wore what I felt like wearing, dimmed the lights, played music, and birthed naturally, assisted by midwives. So really, this home birth is just a change in location, and that's about it.

But back to the 4th trimester. I feel like I have gone about it in a few different ways, and I am FINALLY learning by my 4th pregnancy, what works and what doesn't. So here's what DOESN'T WORK:

1. Worrying. Worrying about when baby will come. Will it come when your mother-in-law has to help at that wedding or when your husband is stuck in traffic far away or when you're 3 hours away from home up in the mountains with no cell phone service? (which we were over William's due date) It just doesn't really help. Or matter. It really honestly seems like whenever and wherever baby decides to come (even in the car!!) things work out ok.

2. Trying to "get the baby out". I know that EVERYONE thinks they have things that help start labor, and maybe some of them are true. Maybe. Or maybe you just happened to eat spicy food the night that baby was going to come out anyway. Or maybe you just happened to go on a long walk hours before baby was going to come anyway, and baby would've come if you had spent that time on the couch, too. Trust me, I have heard it all, and I think I've tried it all too. Baby comes when baby wants to come. *note* I haven't tried castor oil before. I know some people swear by this, but I am concerned about causing more pain and discomfort in labor than there already is, (who needs that???) and causing meconium for the baby. That's why I haven't tried it.

3. Sitting around and waiting. Everyone is different and so if you choose to wait it out that last week or two post-due, that is fine! But it doesn't work for me at all. I just get anxious and discouraged and grumpy. I need to keep moving, keep doing life, keep busy. And guess what? Baby will come.

And so now that we know what DOESN'T work, here's some things that do work well for me:

1. Keep that calendar full. I realize that some people want to schedule their haircut or pedicure or massage for the weeks BEFORE baby so that they're prepared and ready. It totally makes sense. But if you already know you tend to go overdue with your babies like me, than save that stuff for the 41st week! It makes a huge difference. I have had such a fun, full week planned, I almost didn't notice my due date was 3 days ago. ALMOST. :p

2. Specifically do something/plan something fun for your actual due date. If you have to cancel it, great! And if not, you have something to look forward to. I have spent my due dates at a Christmas play, baseball game, family reunion at Drift Creek camp, and getting a pedicure. It makes for a fun memory instead of just remembering how depressed and discouraged you were sitting at home, huge and pregnant.

3. Tackle that before-baby list. For me, extra motivation for nesting and preparing for baby always builds in that 41st/42nd week! Probably because I know that now, for sure, baby's arrival is imminent. And so keep plugging away at it. There are always freezer meals to be made or something to clean or organize. It keeps you busy and feeling productive, and that is a GOOD THING.

4. Relax. This may seem in stark contrast to my last suggestion, but seriously, pace yourself. If you aren't feeling good, don't make yourself do much at all! Or if you have energy in the morning, cross something off that to-do list, and then sit down all afternoon with a magazine and an iced coffee. (If you don't have a house full of other busy little kids, that is) :p Because seriously, when in your entire life are you going to deserve it more??! Soak it up. Try and actually enjoy it. Read those books you've been wanting to get to. Catch up on that show on Netflix. I think baby senses when things are more peaceful and relaxed and "safe" to make their appearance, and that spurs on labor a lot quicker than frantic desperation and extreme activity trying to MAKE baby come. But that's just my humble opinion.

So now I'd love to hear from you! What have some of your pregnancy experiences been, and if you've gone overdue, how have you passed the time and battled discouragement? Let me know in a comment or email, I love, love hearing from you!

Maybe it's because I'm raising two daughters, (and could possibly give birth to a third one, any day now, if baby is a girl) or maybe it's just because I am a woman myself, but there are a few things I'd love for women everywhere to know, but I can only hope and dream that I can manage to teach them to my daughters. And the sooner the better.

1. Let's stop being so petty.
The 2016 Rio Olympics have come to a close, but long before the burning flames were ever doused by a sheet of water, controversy was swirling and storming the internet about all the sexism at the games. This is our first stop on the Train of Things we Just Need to Stop Griping about.

First of all, I think that sexism is a real thing, and it does exist. But I think we probably accurately identify it about 10% of the time. That statistic is my own, but what do I know, I'm just a woman.
I believe we are only doing ourselves the disfavor if we choose to be petty enough to filter everything through the lens of the big, bad world full of big, bad men that are out to demean and belittle us. It makes us seem so small and weak and PETTY, and why not just be strong enough to stand above it?
"But they were being so sexist!" You insist. "Something needs to be said about it! Something needs to be done!" But were they?

-After Katinka Hosszu swam to victory and the commentator credited her husband as the "man responsible" for her performance, the internet lost its mind. But he's not just her husband. He's her COACH. And any sports fan knows that coaches often get credit for incredible progress or transformation in an athlete's career, as well they should. She placed 4th in the 2012 Olympics and was definitely considered an underdog at many points in her comeback journey to Rio. Now, I don't know the intricacies of their relationship, or marriage, or training. He definitely seems like an intense individual that could be hard to work with but that's not really my business. Women are strong. We can take a little tough love. And it resulted in ultimate improval and success, so obviously, something was working well. Why not give her AND her coach the benefit of the doubt that they both worked so incredibly hard to get to where they are? And maybe that's what the commentator meant in that moment. Not that she had no part in the victory, but that AS A TEAM (which he could have phrased better) they won the race.

-Again, outrage and backlash erupted when the Chicago Tribune reported that the "wife of a Bears' lineman won a bronze medal" in Rio. People felt like the headline reduced her worth and identity to merely the "wife of someone important" and it was highly offensive. Well true, he probably could have included her name, but be honest, a lot of people reading that day wouldn't have known who Corey Cogdell-Unrein was. Stating that she was the wife of a Bears' lineman just served to establish a familiarity with the readership, it being the Chicago Tribune after all. It wasn't intended to mean that she had no identity of her own. It was just using it's limited amount of characters in a headline to connect with the readers in a way that would make them realize, oh yeah, she's one of us.

-The makeup thing, granted, is pretty ridiculous. It seems fairly silly that people would need to be sitting around discussing this sort of thing at all. But remember.....WE are the ones that choose to wear makeup. No one is forcing us to. And so the discussion begins with us. In a similar way, why isn't anyone outraged that female contestants have a WAY more difficult chance of competing on the show "Dancing with the Stars" than their male counterparts? They have to do the same degree of difficulty in dance while wearing high heels, instead of comfortable dancing shoes. Why don't we all protest that? Make it FAIR? Well, because no one is forcing us to wear high heels. We choose to do so.

-Next up, outrage at women being compared to men, as in "Katie Ledecky swims like a man" or "Simone Biles is the next Michael Phelps". Well first of all, if either of those two things were ever said to me, I would take them as a compliment, but I guess that just shows how disillusioned I am as a poor, weak woman?? First of all, I think if we can all just take a deep breath for a second, we will acknowledge and realize that men and women ARE different, and that's why Ledecky and Phelps aren't swimming in lanes next to each other. It wouldn't be a fair fight, right? But then if someone says she actually swims in a way that resembles the way men are physically capable of performing, it's suddenly a sexist insult? I don't get it. And Simone wasn't being compared to Michael because she's not good even to just be herself, as a girl. She was compared to Michael because her incredible skills, talent, and accomplishments are going to make her go down in history as one of the best Olympians ever. The commentator was just giving a point of reference. Once again, I wouldn't mind if someone compared me to the next C.S. Lewis or Mark Twain. Not one single bit.

-And lastly, a BBC reporter credited Andy Murray for being the "first person ever to win two gold medals in tennis" while Venus and Serena Williams have won four each, and women everywhere hit the roof. Granted, it was a mistake. Andy Murray wasn't the first person ever to do that. But once again, this is a MISTAKE, people. I can see myself saying that! And then catching myself and muttering, "I mean, first man ever." Because once again, Andy and Serena aren't hitting across the net to each other. We keep sports separate and then someone slips up keeping everyone's track records separate in their mind and we FREAK OUT. It only serves to make us look petty and insecure. For all we know, before that commentator approached him, he went over in his mind every past men's tennis gold winner he could think of, and realized that Andy was the first man to do this two times. And when he commented on that incredible feat, he slipped up and said person, and that was his egotistical, misogynistic sexism rearing its ugly head. Or, it was a mistake.

Anyway, I could go on, but I will just end there. There are too many other things to say, and too little time.

#2. Let's stop assuming that everyone is out to get us.

Among women, this seems to be a crisis of epidemic proportions these days. We see other women's successes as our failure, their beauty as an insult to our own, their personality as something trying to overshadow our own, their happiness as a threat to ours. Everyone is out to better us, defeat us, beat us, belittle us. Everyone is hanging out without us, leaving us out, alone and lonely, and we are the victims.

And by the way, I'm preaching to the choir here folks. I doubt anyone battled insecurity and comparison and jealousy more deeply and darkly than I did a couple of years ago. I had sunk so deep into that pit I couldn't even see the light anymore. And if you find yourself there today, I just have to ask you like I asked myself.....how's that working out for you? Is it bringing life, and light and joy? My guess is NO. My guess is that it's sucking the life right out of you. It's destroying your peace, your sense of purpose, your inspiration. It's time to let it go.

It's time to stop assuming that all of the women everywhere in the world are out to get us, and let's just make our own path. Let's be stronger than that. Let's find our identity in Christ, and not in just trying to be like someone else, or better than someone else. Then, and only then, will we find joy and contentment. And I am desperately going to try and teach my daughters this, before they become another hurting woman in the world's system of self-loathing.

#3. Let's stop limiting ourselves.

There is a mentality, particularly prevalent in the conservative culture that I grew up in, that women just aren't interested in certain things. Things like numbers and business and finance and sports and higher education. Things like having a career, honing a skill, publishing a book, excelling at sports. The common opinion seems to assume we all just want to find a man willing to marry us and produce babies. And while some of you would argue back to me, "Well, isn't that exactly what you're doing?" I would reply, Yes, it's what I'm choosing to do. At this time, and at this season. But it certainly doesn't mean I don't have other interests and dreams and aspirations. I have so many, many things I'd like to do. But I also wanted to be a mother. I CHOSE that. No one forced me to do so, I wanted to do that. And I hope to be able to accomplish some other things one day too, but I am also trying to have the wisdom to realize that there is a time and a season for things, and this is the season I am in right now. But all that being said, there is a difference between the mentality of "I am a woman and so this is all I can do" and "I am a woman and there are many, MANY things I can do, and this is what I am choosing out of all of them to do. I am choosing to raise my babies."

The mental shift may seem subtle, but it is huge. And we are the only ones that stop limiting ourselves to predisposed ideas of who we are supposed to be.

"It's that election cycle year again. Where it seems everything we care about gets dwindled down to two teams that vehemently argue over every point as if it's all a big game and there can only be one winner. I often find myself on neither side of the polarizing arguments but there is one that I keep seeing that pains me more than most. On the subject of abortion I often have to hear the argument that it would be better that we abort these babies than for them to be born unwanted and grow up in the foster system. I can't tell you how much this untrue statement breaks my heart. It breaks my heart for the many couples I know struggling with infertility who would absolutely love to adopt but have been waiting for years to do so because, contrary to popular belief, those babies aren't the leas bit unwanted, there are actually less babies placed at birth in this country than couples praying to take them home and care for them. It breaks my heart for all of the young girls and women who believe if they cannot care for their sweet baby no one else will. They feel they have no choice because of the misinformation proclaimed (ironically) by some pro-choice advocates. But most of all, very most, it breaks my heart for the perfect little big eyed baby boy I'm snuggling as we speak who is currently "in the foster system" who I love with all my heart and you know what? I think he matters. I think the world is a better place because he's still in it. And I DO NOT think his life is any less valuable or important or beautiful than any one else's."

And of course her post received backlash and hateful comments, but I just loved her so much for her courage and bravery in saying something she knew wouldn't be well received. I hope to teach my daughters that yes, THEY DO HAVE A CHOICE. They have the most powerful choice in the world. They have the choice to save their beautiful bodies and sexual intimacies for the man they also choose to marry and spend their entire lives with. They have the choice to guard themselves until the moment they decide with their husband to create a life together. And the beauty and freedom and blessing of that choice cannot be over-emphasized. Think of the power of that kind of a choice.

"Pro-choice" people would try and have us believe that killing your baby is a "choice" women should be allowed to make. Well what about all of the choices that come before that? Where was our power of choice then? And who are you to say that the choice of killing your little one is better than the choice of saving yourself for marriage, or the choice of giving birth and experiencing the miracle of life growing inside of you, and living outside of you, changing you forever and bringing a beauty and purpose to your life you couldn't possibly know existed?

But regardless of your side of the arguments, I think if daughters were raised to know that ALL of our choices, regardless of when they take place, have definite consequences, I think a lot of this whole mess could be avoided. We don't rectify a bad choice with another, devastating one. We don't make the consequences of one decision disappear by making another equally-life changing one. The consequences remain. The question when getting pregnant is NOT "What now?" Because the choice has already been made. You had countless choices leading up to that moment, but not the time for making decisions is done. There is a consequence, and it's time to face it. And LUCKY for you, that consequence is not a terminal illness, or cancer, or an STD. That "consequence" is a perfect, beautiful, miraculous little baby, who only wants the same freedom of life you've been able to have.

Well I feel like this could go on forever, but I really need to wrap this up and get my day started. Raising daughters in our world today is definitely one of the scariest things I've ever done, but I think it can also be one of the most beautiful. What are some things you want to teach your daughters? Leave me a comment or send me an email, I'd love to hear.

I mean, I can do it, and I do, because it's kind of necessary for basic human existence and I know it's important for my family. That being said, I do not thrive on it. I do not get a special thrill out of being in the kitchen. I'd rather be outside weeding flowerbeds and trimming trees than cooking or baking. Often, I will let things go inside my home, because the sun is shining and the summer is short, and I'd just really rather be a lot of other places than rattling around my kitchen.

Part of this is due to the stage of life I am in. And I KNOW I overuse that phrase, but that is just because it truly affects EVERYTHING. At this point in my life, I grocery shop as seldom as humanly possible. And so that results in "boring" cooking. Same old, same old. And often being out of an ingredient or two, which results in frustration. And I don't have the time or energy to experiment with new things. And the thought of roaming the aisles looking for an unusual, gourmet ingredient that is out of my usual routine and requires extra time makes me want to cry. Having 3 little ones requires me to keep food prep time brief and to the point, not leaving a lot of extra time for anything fancy.

So this all results in me sticking to the basics, using whatever I have on hand, and usually waiting to even think about dinner until 4 or 5:00. I KNOW that menu planning would makes things easier and more efficient. I KNOW it would help. But I still can't seem to get myself to do it. Or even if I do, to stick to it regularly. Clearly, I need help.

For some people, none of this is an issue. They garden, can, cook, and bake with vigor and relish. They try new things, tweak old recipes, make up their own, and experiment freely. They always have something delicious either simmering or sautéing, grilling or roasting or brewing, and somehow, miraculously, seem to actually find enjoyment in all of it. You can find one of those people over here. I kind of just want to be adopted into her family. Or at least just show up for dinner uninvited every night.

But the reality is, no one is going to take care of my family's food needs, but me. No one. It's a hard truth to come to terms with, but it's true! And while perhaps for the rest of my life, I would prefer hiking or writing or traveling or camping or thrifting or ANYTHING really, above cooking...the fact remains that it needs to be done. And so when I find something that works, at least for me, I cling on to it for dear life.

Enter these simple, delicious, homemade sandwich buns. They're nothing fancy, but whenever I have them on hand, I feel like we can at least survive. We use them for hamburgers, cold meat and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, (any kind of sandwich, really) or just eat them with honey and a glass of milk for a snack. The kids love them, they freeze great and stay soft, and they are definitely a staple around here. I got the recipe from my mother-in-law, and now I will pass it on to you:

Mix together and let sit for a few minutes:
3 Cups warm water
1/2 C sugar
2 TBSP yeast

Extra points for making your nap-skipping preschooler butter them for you.

And now I'd really, truly love hear from you! What are some lifesaver staples around your house? It can be a fun, easy snack, a fast, simple dinner, or anything really that is stress-free and low-maintenance and family-friendly. I'd love to hear. And obviously, I can use all the help I can get.